Heartless
by MadiHope24
Summary: Cato and Clove have been each other's only companion for years, when suddenly they decide they're meant to be so much more to one another. One little incident changes their lives, and causes them both to be thrusts into the 74th Hunger Games. Clove's POV. Alternate ending. Rated T because its the Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

**Thank you so much for giving my story a chance! This is my first fanfiction, so please don't be rude, I'm trying my best. Constructive criticism is definitely welcome though! This is a story I started awhile ago, but never got a chance to finish, so I'm giving it one more try.**

**Disclaimer for the whole story: I'm not Suzanne Collins, nor do I own the Hunger Games. I do, however, own characters such as Laurenia and Blake!**

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**Chapter 1**

I sit down at our normal table and wait for Cato. I grin wickedly as all the other tributes-in-training stare down at their tray, too terrified to meet my gaze. They should be ashamed, if they can't even look at me they've no chance in the arena. Cato's familiar footsteps are close by so I let my grin drop and look his way, letting him know I'm aware of his presence. Other than the brief eye contact, we don't acknowledge each other, and for a while we sit in silence. Its a comfortable silence, one we are very used to. We aren't exactly friends, more like allies. Allies that will probably be friends if they are both still alive in a couple of years. The only thing keeping us from being friends now is me believing being friends will distract us from our ultimate goal, winning the Hunger Games, and will also damage my reputation as a heartless psychopath, which I am. Though he would never admit it, I know Cato thinks of me as a friend, but I don't mind. Maybe one day after we are both Victors I'll return the feeling.

Our relationship has been pretty much like this since the day we met, Cato wanting someone to spend time with that isn't intimidated, stupid or weak and me knowing Cato was the closest thing to my skill and intelligence level I would get. Plus he is good for gaining respect among the other trainees. I almost smile at the thought of the day we met. Our mentor whipped us both within an inch of our lives (we both have the scars to prove it) for the damage we caused to the Training Center in our fierce battle. Once we found ourselves to be seemingly equal we called a truce. Something about being the most skilled and feared future-tributes kept us together from day one, and the unspoken agreement to stick together was always there. We really had no desire for anyone else's company, thinking them all below us. Well, with the exception of Laurenia Amerly, a lively thirteen-year-old with fiery red curls and a personality to match. That's when I notice her absence.

"Pixie-" Before I could finish Laurenia is by my side, lacing her lithe, pale arm through mine. I pull away with a scowl, but she knows I don't mean anything by it. She returns it with grin before turning her attention to Cato.

"You kept us waiting, Pixie." He says menacingly, but we both know him well enough to know he is joking. She grins wider at the sound of her pet name.

"Enobaria wanted me to put some over-confident air head in his place. I think I ruined his chances of ever training again, though. His arm was pretty messed up, maybe beyond repair. It kept twitching." She said in her ever-perky voice. Her nose, which was dusted with freckles, scrunched up a little. She didn't feel remorse, making her an ideal Career. At least, if she did I couldn't tell, for she never showed the slightest sign. She was even smaller than I was at her age, and I was small by normal comparison, let alone to other tributes. Her skill with both swords and a bow and arrow were beyond her years by far, and she had a wicked speed. Her ability to climb was exceptional, also, but it was her always unaffected mindset that set her apart from the others and kept her in the Training Center. It doesn't matter what happens, she is always cheery and prepared for anything.

"So, part one of our plan will commence tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, Cato will most likely be one of the last ones in the Arena. How many people do you think will die?" I ask with a smirk. We have a small fighting arena in the middle of the Training Center we call the Ring where all the exceptional would-be tributes fight to determine who will go into the arena that year, and sometimes our mentor decides we need to go in for whatever reason throughout the year, whether to prove ourself or just because our mentor is in a bad mood. There are almost always deaths, whether accidental or instructed by our mentor. The Peacekeepers turn a blind eye as long as the number isn't too high because they enjoy a show as much as anyone else.

"Depends how many people go into the Ring with me." Leave it to Cato to turn a conversation about life and death into a way to compliment himself. I just deepen my scowl at him in return, even though I'm actually impressed he could seem so sure about himself. I knew he really wasn't that self-assured though, and secretly cringes at the thought of taking the life from another child. When you spend almost every waking hour everyday with someone, you learn things like that. That is where he and I differ. While I relish in the pain I cause other people, Cato only pretends. As far as everyone else knows, he is just as sadistic and bloodthirsty as I am, but only he and I know that isn't true. In fact, he will probably be more than relieved when his Games are over and he comes home with a crown on his head, while I on the other hand will be disappointed that the chance to cause harm will be over. He swore he would only be a mentor one year, during the 76th Hunger Games, and that was for me. After that he says he's done with the Hunger Games for good.

We fall silent again, and stay that way until 1:30, at which time one sharp trill signifies lunch is over. Everyone files into the gym and hovers at the door, waiting for the annual evaluation that takes place exactly one month before the Reaping. We will be expected to demonstrate our skills in all areas- hand-to-hand combat, at least three weapons, endurance, strength, speed and agility. You will either be chosen for performing well in all categories, or you will be chosen for showing beyond exceptional skill in one or two areas. As a final evaluation, the best tributes are put into the Ring with selct weapons and expected to fight, which often results in death. Its almost always eighteen year olds and the occasional seventeen year old, even if someone younger outshines them. District 2 wants the best chance possible, and the longer a tribute trains, the better chance they have at victory.

There was always the off chance that something would happen and _I_ would be chosen, because we are lacking decent female tributes this year. Everyone here knew the only person in the entire gym that could even have a chance at beating me was Cato. Odds are Cato will go in this year and I will go in either next year or the year after. They can't risk sending a sixteen year old in no matter how talented, right? A very small part of me, the only caring and seemingly human part of me, whispered how glad I was that there was no way I could go in the Arena this year, Cato's year. That little part of me knew I couldn't kill Cato any more than he could kill me, but I always ignored it. I'm Clove Daria, and I _will_ win the Hunger Games, even if it means burying a dagger into Cato's heart.

Enobaria, one of District 2's fiercest victors and new head of the Training Center, clears her throat and begins to speak. "Find your mentor, they have the order in which you will be evaluated." Her pointed teeth flash in the harsh light and I can't help the flicker of admiration that always accompanies the sight of her and her deadly teeth. Cato and I move to stand with Blake.

We are the only Careers he mentors, because of our talent and "inability to play well with others," as said by every person that tried to take us on. Then again, these are the Hunger Games, so I have no idea why they should expect any different.

"You two will be evaluated separate from the other tributes. Just go home, I'll see you tomorrow at 5am." He waves us off. Cato started to open his big, arrogant mouth to say something that would surely get us in trouble, but one sharp glare from me stopped him and we leave uncertainly.

We walk down the road towards Cato's house like always, but stop when we reach his long driveway. At the end sits a white house slightly larger than average. "Your dad is here." His expression hardens into the perfectly emotionless mask that all Careers are expected to master, though I myself prefer a more menacing facial expression rather than passive. Aaron Dannons is not someone you want to cross paths with. He was the one that forced Cato into training, and it didn't go unnoticed that, even though he was an alcoholic and almost never home because of his job in the Capitol (which he isn't supposed to tell anyone about), he had power. You do what he says or some "unfortunate accident" happens.

"My house?" He just nods and we keep walking. Unease suddenly falls over us like a veil and we continue in this uncomfortable silence. When his father is home he often spends the night on my couch. My parents don't care as long as it doesn't interfere with mine or my sister's training. It almost disgusts me how much they let us get away with. "I think Jacia is at a friend's house this entire weekend and my parents are going to be in the quarries into next week. You can stay as long as you'd like." We stand there awkwardly for a few moments, unsure what to do with our newfound freedom, before I was struck with a great idea.

"What do you say to breaking Pixie out?" A grin spreads across his face.

"She probably won't be doing anything, I don't even think they'll notice she's gone. By the time we get back and scale the wall, she'll already be finished." She would, since her last name is Amerly and the evaluation is done in alphabetical order.

"Race you?"

"Yeah right Dannons, like you could beat me!" I scoff back. He correctly assumes this as my acceptance of his challenge and we take off. We run side by side, one of Cato's strides equaling two of mine. I keep up easily though, due to a decade of training. We both hold back unconsciously, never outpacing the other, though we called for a race. When you grow accustomed to a certain person's company at all times, it becomes hard to leave them for even a short time. This is a plus to our strange relationship, we always have each others back and often know what the other is thinking through the smallest action.

The Training Center had just come in sight when we both have the same idea. I swerve towards Cato as he swerves towards me, both of us trying to cut the other off. We collide and fall hard. I find myself on the ground with legs tangled with Cato's. Involuntarily, my flushed cheeks curl upwards into a smile and a breathy laugh escapes my lips. Cato, too is chuckling, but quickly turns serious. He is looking into my eyes and I stare back unabashedly. My brain is a little foggy and before I realize what I'm doing, Cato's face is centimeters from mine. I jerk away and stand with a grace that only years of training can accomplish. I turn around and sprint towards my house, reaching it in a matter of minutes.

I slam the door and lean on it, sliding down slowly until I'm on the ground with my arms wrapped around my legs and my hands clasped together. What just happened? It was just impulse, a basic human need for affection, right? I don't have feelings, I can't. Feelings get in the way of winning, soften you until you aren't a bloodthirsty murderer anymore. Emotion is what makes a human a _human_ and I can't afford to tap into my humanity right now after years of being a monster without feelings. I can practically feel the key to Victor's Village in my hand and if I start feeling I might show mercy, which will get me killed in the end. Just the thought of it makes me shudder.

After a deep breath I stand up. My hands is resting on the doorknob when Cato barrels in, barely missing me as I dive for safety. "Clove, please, if you value my sanity, hear me out. I know you want everyone to think you're heartless, you even think you're heartless, but you aren't. Sure, you're good with knives and hurting people amuses you, but I think I love you and you can't tell me you don't feel anything!" His voice is broken and his eyes pleading. I have only seen his tough exterior break like this one other time, and I hated it. Its all I can do to not pull him close and never let go.

"You're right." Is all I can manage. At first I don't think he heard my whisper, but that proves false when his lips crash onto mine. I just stand there shocked until he pulls away.

"I'll make us food. Spaghetti?" I nod, still unable to form words, but Cato is smiling like a fool. He is probably just happy he doesn't have a knife embedded in his ribcage, which actually sounds like a good idea right now. My shell-shocked state is fading quickly and anger is filling its place.

"What was that?" I demand, fingering my favorite knife, which stays in my belt at all times, even while I sleep. I had more than a few dark scars on my hip where the blade had been at the wrong angle when pressure was applied to it.

"You shouldn't have started something you couldn't finish, and you even admitted you have feelings." He says with a shrug, that stupid smile still on his face. I slip my knife skillfully out of my belt and press the blade lightly against his throat (I wasn't going to hurt him, just scare him), when I realized that maybe I wanted this just as much as Cato did. Thinking back, the pressure of his lips felt good against mine. I put my knife back into my belt, deciding instead to punch him in the jaw. He stumbles a little, obviously shocked that I had hurt him.

"One more thing." I say carelessly. Without hesitation I grab his shirt and pull his lips down to meet mine, and this time I actually contribute instead of standing there rigidly. I pull away and flash a smile in his direction. "Maybe we can make this work. One condition though." He looks like a child on Christmas morning, nodding his head eagerly. "No one knows, not even Laurenia." He knows I'm being completely serious when I refer to Laurenia by her name. We usually call her Pixie. Neither Cato, nor I have used her name in a long time.

"Deal!" He pecks me on the lips one last time before turning back to his cooking. "Wanna let these boil while we break out Pixie?" I had completely forgotten our plan, my bad.

"I think she's fine. Why don't we just watch a movie or two before we go to bed. We'll see if she turns up later." After closer inspection of his jaw I declare he needs ice and some fancy pill we have that keeps bruising from happening from the Capitol. Cato grudgingly agrees, and after a spaghetti dinner and two and a half movies I find myself drifting into unconsciousness with my head on his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Clove." Is the last thing I hear before my world fades into black.

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**Love it? Hate it? Should I even continue? I appreciate feedback! Oh, and I'll be updating about once a week! xD**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello my lovely readers! I'm back a day early, because this time tomorrow I will be at sea! But no worries, I'll be back in time to update next Sunday. Well, without further ado, here is chapter 2. Oops, didn't mean to make that rhyme...**

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**Chapter 2**

I watch disinterestedly as some mediocre fighters go at each other with swords. Neither of those girls will come home as a Victor unless there is some freak accident and everyone knows it. "That's enough!" Enobaria says sharply. They immediately stop fighting, put down their weapons and step out of the Ring. It turns out Blake just wanted to evaluate us separately from everyone else this morning because he knows we are both going into the Games, whether this year in Cato's case or the year after in my case, and just wanted us to try out some different things instead of wasting time on the all-day evaluation. Enobaria calls up the first set of boys.

This year all the boys are eighteen, like usual, and there will be eight rounds. The first four rounds are uneventful. So far no deaths and no one really stands out, so when Cato steps into the ring I get excited. Cato will crush his competitor easily and often doesn't back down until the other person is humiliated beyond reason, badly injured or dead, no matter what his mentor commands. He hates it, but he has pride and a reputation to protect. I settle into my seat on the front row when our newest victor, Amos, slinks over next to me. He won like a coward, waiting for Districts 1, the other tribute from 2, and 4-the inner districts alliance- to finish off all but two of the other tributes. He poisoned the inner districts alliance and the remaining tributes were killed off by mutts during the final showdown. His kill count was officially five, but here in 2 we consider it zero.

"What do you want, Amos?" I hiss at him.

"Just wanted to be close to you darling. My tribute is going into the Arena this year and I thought that maybe when she is killed off you could be my _personal _trainee." As he says this, he slings his arm over my shoulder with a lazy grin. Whatever he is hinting at, it doesn't matter, because I shove him off of me roughly. He just moves his chair closer to mine so that our legs are touching and puts his arm around me again. His other hand rests on my thigh and before can react the tribute in the Ring falls to the floor, unconscious. The next thing I see is Cato charging out of the Ring towards Amos. I pull out of Amos' grasp just before Cato tackles Amos to the ground.

His fist connects with Amos' face over and over while he snarls the words, "Never. Touch. Her. Again!" Blake and two other mentors try to pull Cato off but I know its no use. He's angry and not even I can calm him down while he is like this. I see a large spike mace that Cato must've had the whole time come down onto one of the other mentors and I know he has gone too far. I take my knife from my belt and aim it at the arm holding the mace, which is about to be embedded into Blake. I release the knife and as it leaves my hand I begin running towards Cato. He yelps in surprise as my knife finds its way into his shoulder, no where that will do any real damage of course, but enough to slow him down. The mace is now laying on the floor and Cato turns toward me, ready for a fight.

The familiar rush of adrenaline overtakes me and I act without thinking. My whole life has been spent training this reaction into me, and it obviously wasn't useless. I don't slow down when Cato runs towards me. He reaches out to grab me and I feel his arms graze my waist as duck and twist out of the way. My knife is laying the ground within five feet of me so I abandon all things to do with Cato for the moment and dive towards it. The handle feels good in my small hand, almost as if it were made for me and only me. I turn just as Cato knocks me to the ground, much like he did to Amos, and stands over me. A viscous smile overtakes his features and I take his moment of gloating to lunge forward and crush my elbow into his windpipe. He lets out a strangled cry and stumbles backwards. I get up as quick as possible and sprint towards Cato. I throw all my hundred-and-ten pound weight into him, and though it normally wouldn't faze him, he slams into the wall since he is still recovering from the blow to the throat. My knife is still in my hand so I press it into his throat.

Little red droplets of blood form where my blade meets his throat but I don't let up. "Cato come back to me. Its Clove, okay? Listen, you've really screwed up." I let out a little humorless chuckle before continuing, "You've gone way too far, and the only thing that is saving you is the fact that the Games are in a week and you're our best chance at victory. Snap out of it _right now_, or I will drag this knife across your pretty little throat and end you before one of those idiotic tributes can." The determination leaves his eyes and he goes limp against the wall. I take this as my cue to back away.

"Clove, I-" By the end he had wiped the blood from his throat and seemed to realize he shouldn't be saying whatever it was he was about to say or people may suspect something. His usual arrogant smile graces his face and instead he says, "You just got lucky, you know? I was distracted by your gorgeous sister." He gives my fourteen-year-old sister a wink. I'm disgusted, but I guess it is true that she's beautiful. Her creamy skin is blemish free and she had constantly rosy cheeks, while my face is freckled. Her perfect white-blonde hair is in its natural ringlets and is never out of place, while I always keep my wavy dark brown hair pulled tightly back. Her pink lips are full and her nose perfect, and everyone is captivated by her mysterious blue-gray eyes that are flecked with gold. "If I had been focused then you wouldn't be alive right now." He says arrogantly. I snort.

"Shut up, you idiot! First of all, I can beat you any day, and I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. Be a big boy and tell the nice man you're sorry. Oh, and call an ambulance when you're done, Amos is gonna need it. So is that guy." I tell him, my voice full of malice and I gesture to the man who Cato attacked with the mace. He mumbles apologies to the mentors that tried to help and then walks off to call an ambulance like I told him. I use my most menacing glare, one that dares someone to say something to me, but Blake and Enobaria are speaking in excited whispers. I choose to ignore them and saunter after Cato.

Once we're alone I shove Cato not-so-lightly and his cocky grin drops from his face. "Clove, really I'm so sorry! Are you hurt?"

"No, but you just got us into some serious trouble Cato! What were you thinking?" By his guilty expression I'm pretty sure he wasn't thinking at all. In a softer voice I say, "Now let me look at your neck." He looks up obediently and I stare at the thin red line on his throat. I feel a twinge of guilt, but shove it away. I can't feel guilty, Careers don't have emotions. "Don't worry you'll live." I consider giving him a quick kiss, but think better of it. Cato turns to call an ambulance from the phone on the wall while I go back into the Training Center gym.

"Clove come over here, I need to talk to you." The strange grin from earlier is still spread across Blake's face as he motions me over. Out of habit, I don't hesitate to follow his order, even if I'm uncomfortable with that look. "You fought remarkably well today."

"As I always do." I sneer. I may have more respect for him than I do for most other people but it doesn't stop me from being me.

"The speed in which you reacted was remarkable. Every fight you've been in before was planned, but you were ready today. And you meant that threat, didn't you? About ending him? Most people couldn't say that to their best friend."

"Of course I meant it! And he isn't my friend, I don't have friends. I see him as a way for respect and power among these sad excuses for tributes, nothing more. I would have no problem slitting his throat if need be." I snarl at him, angry that he would question me. Enobaria and Blake look at each other and nod and I'm starting to wonder whats going on.

Blake begins carefully, as if I'm a bomb he doesn't want to go off. "As you know, we are lacking in suitable female tributes this year. Your, um, ally is our only chance at a victory, and though I don't doubt him, we would all feel much better if we had two tributes with a chance." I nod, still unsure where he is going with this. It frustrates me to no end when I can't figure something out, because I am usually able to quickly understand things. "We think that if _you _were to go into the Hunger Games with Mr. Dannons the chance of 2 having a victor this year is almost guaranteed." Then it clicks. Cato and I are both going into the 74th Hunger Games. Excitement and fear weave together and spread through my body. I narrow my eyes and spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

"About time you realize I'm the best. I'm going home now." He lets me go and I'm glad. Cato comes through the door just as I am passing so I grab his arm and pull him outside with me. He looks questioningly at me but I keep walking, picking up speed until I'm eventually running so fast that Cato is struggling to keep up. I run until I get to Cato's house. I didn't look to see who's home, so when I run through the front door I'm relieved that Cato's father isn't here.

I streak past his mother, Giselle, who is bouncing five-year-old Ellie on her lap. "Clove!" Ellie shrieks excitedly. Squirming in her mother's arms, trying to follow me to Cato's room. Cato thunders into the house shouting for me to stop and the pitter patter of Ellie's feet is close behind me, despite her mother's pleas to come back and leave me alone.

I bolt into Cato's room, but leave the door open. Tiny Ellie and Cato arrive at the same time. I open my arms for Ellie- I have a soft spot for her that no one is ever going to know about- and she curls into me. I welcome the distraction and bury my face in her red hair. Ever since Cato and I began our romantic -shudder-relationship, I've noticed that shutting off my emotions is harder. He comes and sits next to me, wrapping me protectively in his arms. I pull away from him, but keep Ellie clutched tightly to me, needing the reassurance.

"Cato, I'm going into the Games this year. With you." It comes out sounding flat and detached and I curse myself for being so weak. Cato's reaction beats mine by a mile, though. His lip begins to tremble then tears begin to stream down his face. He begins to hyperventilate, which then turns into full out sobs. I try to calm Ellie who started crying and screaming when Cato lost it. She wants to know whats wrong with Brother, and she wants to know "RIGHT NOW"_! _Giselle is banging on the door, because Cato had locked it when he came in, but he is still in hysterics and Ellie is making it impossible for me to stand and go to the door. She's screaming, holding on to me and demanding to know whats wrong. I try telling Giselle now wasn't a good time and I'd let her in later but Ellie and Cato's cries were drowning it out.

In all the commotion I hadn't even noticed the silent tears that had begun to stream down my face. I am disgusted with myself, but right now I can't stop them. "Shhh, baby, its okay. Brother is just upset because we are both going away for awhile." I make sure Cato isn't listening to the next part. "Ellie, I need you to stop crying and listen very carefully to this, alright?" She hears the urgency in my voice and quiets, her bright blue eyes still filled with tears. "I'm going to make sure your brother comes home. If he doesn't though, don't worry, because I'll come home." Her tears spill over once more.

"Why can't you both come home?" She asks quietly. My heart breaks and suddenly the ruins of my cracked emotional barriers shatter. Right now, all I am is a scared, helpless little girl that just wants to live. My silent tears become sobs and Ellie buries her face in my shoulder. Together we all cry, mourning the end of our time together, knowing that very soon only Ellie was guaranteed to be alive. Maybe, just maybe, I have thought of Cato as a friend since I was seven years old.

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**Ok, so I hope Cato and Clove weren't to OOC at the end there? I wanted to show that Cato and Clove both have souls, even if Clove's is buried deeper than Cato's. Please read & review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello loves! I'm back! I had a wonderful cruise, but its back to business. So, our favorite tributes are back, and hopefully more in character. I'm paranoid that may be a little OOC, so you've been warned.**

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**Chapter 3**

I wake up to sunlight streaming through the window. I miss Cato, which is a new feeling for me. After waking up with Ellie between us, tear tracks down our faces and a pounding headache we decided that we shouldn't see each other at all until the Reaping. Which happens to be today. It hurts more than I thought it would to not be with him when I've lived almost my entire life with him by my side, but his absence did help me pull myself together and call back the ruthless killer I've always known myself to be.

Much to my mother's distaste I pull on some jeans and a tank top. My sister lectures me for almost ten minutes about not wearing make up since I know I'm going to be on camera. I want to get to Cato, so despite how much I hate make up and my sister, I relent. Jacia looks taken aback and she falters. She wastes no more time in powdering my face and painting my lips. I sit in annoyed silence for several minutes when finally she tells me to look in the mirror.

I may have hated it, but no one could argue with the fact that while I normally look plain, I look pretty for once it my life. The freckles on my face are barely visible and my cheeks have a rosy tint. My green eyes are surrounded by long thick lashes and the eye liner makes them look brighter. A light red coating covers my lips. Without my knowledge she has even twisted my hair into a pretty braid. Instead of thanking her I glare and stalk out the door.

I get to the Square several minutes before the reaping is to start. I look around eagerly before spotting a certain blonde. "Cato!" I try to keep the excitement out of my voice, and much to my pleasure I succeed.

He turns around and lets a smile spread on his face. "Clove! I've missed you. This was the longest week of my life." I nod in agreement. I'm fighting to keep my arms to myself, but I want to grab him and never let go. Before I can say more our escort Lucia (I don't care enough to know her last name) walks on stage and clears her throat. I take that as my cue to go to the sixteen year old section to wait.

Lucia is strange woman, with baby blue skin and silver designs all around her silvery blue eyes. Her eyelashes are extremely long with curled blue ends and her hair was in a strange position that looked a lot like a wave. Her legs have metallic blue scales implanted in them and silver designs snake around her arms. She was an escort in 4 years ago, and her second and last year with them was when Finnick Odair, Panem's sex symbol, won, and her appearance reminds everyone that she knows him. Her squeaky voice is now telling us that it is time to pick the boy tribute that will represent District 2 this year. Just in case, I put on my most confident smirk so I won't be caught scrambling for a suitable expression.

"This year's tribute is... Dar-" But a certain blonde cuts her off.

"I volunteer." He strides confidently up to the stage with a charming smile, but I don't cheer with the rest of my district. I keep the cocky smile on my lips and watch Cato charm and intimidate the crowd at the same time. Lucia is standing way too close to him and I feel a flash of anger. I push it down, knowing I will be on camera soon enough and I need to have my act together.

"Tell us your name, young man!"

"Cato Dannons." He flashes another winning smile.

"Now for the girl tribute!" She looks longingly up at Cato once more before dragging herself to the glass ball overflowing with slips of paper. Here in Two, only trained tributes go into the Games so no one is afraid to take out as much tesserae as needed. "Ginevra Hoff!" A young girl of about fourteen steps out of the crowd. She's easily waving for the cameras, knowing someone will volunteer soon. For a split second, I consider not volunteering. I know for a fact that if I don't, Blake will kill me for sure.

I decide to do what any proper inner district tribute would do and lift my hand, smile cruelly and loudly state, "I volunteer as tribute!" As I take my place by Cato I can't say I'm not excited to finally be going into the Hunger Games. I've trained for this my entire life and now I get to see if I have what it takes to be the best.

"Whats your name?" Lucia is still gawking at Cato and the one thing that irritates me more than anything else is when someone tries to have a conversation without making eye contact.

"I'm over here." I hiss at her. Her unnaturally colored eyes dart to me in surprise, probably because the whole of Panem just heard me reprimand her. "Clove Daria." I narrow my eyes at her with a mocking smile, one that obviously said "what are you going to do about it". She huffs once in response but regains her composure when she remembers we are on live television.

"I present District Two's tributes for the 74th Hunger Games! Cato Dannons and Clove Daria! Please shake hands." I reach over and grip Cato's hand tightly. Our eyes meet briefly. I'm reminded of the days in the Training Center cafeteria when that is all the greeting we ever gave each other. Everything was alright then. We are whisked away into a large building, then into a beautifully decorated room with a plush couch and soft carpet.

I sit alone for almost ten minutes, rejoicing in the fact that maybe my family won't come by and will just leave me alone. I scowl when the door opens, but it turns out to be Laurenia. For once, the happiness that normally surrounds her is gone and tear stains mark her cheeks. Judging by this I assume she has just come from seeing Cato.

"Oh, Clove! Why didn't you tell me?" Hurt seeps into her voice, and I realize that I didn't tell her I was going into the Games. Instead of apologizing I do something that means more to her than any words I could ever say would. I open my arms and let her hug me.

"I'll miss you, Pixie. When I'm gone, don't let Cato hurt himself alright?" I realize what I've said as soon Laurenia does.

"You can't give up, you can't! I love Cato but I love you too! I need you to be strong and try, for me! Just so you know, Cato plans to keep you alive." At this she pulls away, kisses my cheek and leaves.

To my surprise the door opens again, only this time a little girl runs into the room, alone. "Ellie, where's your mommy?"

"Not coming. She doesn't want to see you. Says shes too sad. Brother wants you to come home, and I want you home, too." Her five-year-old certainty is adorable.

"Brother can't come home if I do, though."

"I know, but he said he would be sad if he came home and you stayed. He wants you home, so me too." I hug her tightly, pressing my face into her hair. I whisper my thanks, how much I love her and that I'll miss her. I tell her that I will see her soon, even though I don't really believe it. She stays in my arms until the Peacekeepers pull her away from. And then she's gone.

I sit alone for another fifteen minutes before what has to be my last visitors come in. My parents followed by Jacia come in. "Clove, darling, I'm so proud of you!" My mother tries to throw her arms around me, but I pull away and glare.

"Your make up looked amazing up on that screen! Oh, you're going to do wonderful and then we get one of those lovely houses in Victor's Village! And I can leave that _awful_ Training Center! I'll have to keep running of course to stay thin, but..." Jacia goes on and on and I'm beyond grateful when the Peacekeepers tell them their time is up. I let them drag my indifferent father, obnoxious mother and self-absorbed sister out of the room without a second glance. I sit in my room until five more Peacekeepers come to escort me to the train.

When we reach the platform reporters are everywhere. I icily ignore them, acting as if I'm above them. Well, in my opinion, I am. Cato is several people to my left, smiling for the cameras. I notice he only looks at important people, carefully ignoring the others. I can't figure why he is even trying to win sponsors. We know we will have control of the cornucopia, so it isn't like resources will be scarce, but I guess you can never be sure.

When we get on the train Lucia is once again ogling Cato while I stand over to the side. I'm sick of being ignored and won't stand for it any longer. "Where are our rooms?" I ask in a loud voice.

"Oh, silly me, of course I'll show you. Right down the hall, follow me!" She tells me I'm in the first one and Cato is just down the hall. I quickly shower and change into the most normal clothes I can find- some black pants and a white shirt (I don't even bother with shoes)- then go into the hall. No one is around so I slide into Cato's room. He's laying on the bed staring up at the ceiling. He hears me come in and sits up.

"I was hoping you'd come by." I run into his open arms.

"This is really happening, isn't?" I murmur into his shirt.

"I hope not, Clover. I keep thinking I'll wake up any second." My heart warms at my nickname, but just barely.

"And what if you don't?"

"Then I guess I'm not going home."

"Don't say that! Promise me you'll try to kill me when the time comes! When we are the last two left, you have to try! I can't let you just give up. What about Giselle, or Ellie? What would they think?" I yell at him. He continues to stare past me at the wall. I kiss him softly. "Promise me." This time I whisper and it seems to get through to him.

"I promise." I smile sadly at his words.

"Thank you." I say gently. "Goodbye, Cato. See you at dinner." We both know the weight of my words. I'm thanking him for the last nine years but also telling him we have to let go of all that now. We can never be the same again. I peek out of the door to make sure no one is around before making my way back to my room.

Sitting at dinner that night, I learn that Blake will be Cato's mentor and Errie- the victor of the 68th Hunger Games- will be my mentor. I eat the delicious Capitol food while Errie and Blake drone on with the same strategy speech I've been hearing since the day I stepped into the Training Center when I was seven years old. It went along the lines of 'initiate and take control of the inner district alliance, kill the other tributes, get as much from your allies as possible, kill your allies before they can kill you'. A simple plan that all tributes from the three major inner districts hear about. Blake excuses himself soon after the one-sided discussion is over.

I catch Cato's eye and he knows what I want from one look. Its time to mess with my mentor a little. "Errie? I don't really like this, do you want it?" I say, holding up my bowl of soup. It almost makes me gag how nice I sound, but I keep an innocent pout on my face. Errie is very strange for a victor from 2. She hasn't said or done an unkind thing since she got out if the arena. She is far too sweet and I find it outrageous that she won, but just because I don't like it doesn't mean I won't use it for entertainment. As expected, she smiles at me.

"Of course I'll take it, sweetie! You are so cute! You're only, what?- sixteen? I think you are my favorite tribute yet! They are always so mean and not very pretty. Wait, isn't your sister Jacia? She's so much fun, and _gorgeous_, too! I tried to get her transferred over to me but Kian wouldn't let me have her!" I smile and nod, holding out the bowl of delicious red soup that I hate to give up. I glance at Cato before anything happens and he gives a subtle nod.

I let the bowl "accidentally" slip from my fingers and hot soup covers Errie's lap. I hop up quickly and cover my mouth with my hands in fake horror. Errie is shrieking but calms down eventually. "I'm so sorry! It slipped, I really didn't mean it!"

"Its alright." She gasps.

"Let me help!" Exclaims Cato, jumping up from his seat. As he gets up he "trips" and falls into her. She flips backwards out of her chair and ends up sprawled on her back. Her raven hair is covering her face and she looks absolutely pitiful covered in soup. Cato and I high five as she huffs and gets up.

"Watch out, don't fall. The floor has a little something on it." Sarcasm drips from my voice. I smile brightly once more at Errie before she storms off to her room. I make an effort to eat as much of the red soup the next night on the train and comment on how wonderful it tastes. She doesn't speak to me again.

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**So the ending was a little uneventful, but I hoped you liked it. They're officially tributes! Please review, it would be greatly appreciated :).**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry I didn't update last week! I was preparing for a week-long church retreat, which was completely amazing! God did awesome things in me and my friends, and I'm so blessed to serve Him. But anywho, without further ado, Chapter 4! Hehe that rhymed...**

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**Chapter 4**

Because of the commotion the first night we had forgotten to watch the Reapings. Instead we watch them the second night. First up is District 1. The girl that volunteers is a beautiful blonde girl wearing a super low cut top. I only remember her name is Glimmer because its so... repulsive. I get a feeling that she won't be much help to us. The boy volunteer, Marvel (which is a name equally as stupid as Glimmer), I make a mental note of. He is going to get us sponsors, I can tell. He's tall and charming, but doesn't appear to be too dangerous. Neither Cato nor I should have a problem taking him in a fight but he will easily take out weaker tributes.

We're next and I'm satisfied with our reactions. We look deadly and ready for the arena. I have to say my sister was right in the fact that I did look quite pretty with make up on, though I would never tell her. Her practiced hand applied just enough to make sure my freckles were lighter and the golden flecks were brought out in my green eyes. District 3 has the same pitiful tributes they normally do and, much to my displeasure, the District 4 tributes are nothing to be excited over. Cato notices, too.

"Should we let them in the alliance?" Questions Cato doubtfully. Its a custom for 1, 2 and 4 to form an alliance, but with these tributes I'm not so sure.

"The boy is definitely out. He didn't volunteer and he almost cried when he was on stage! He looks strong enough physically, but mentally he isn't prepared. He's too tender hearted and doesn't appear to be very focused. We can let him stick around so as to not raise suspicion, but he goes in the bloodbath." I state with confidence.

"Well look who got smart. You practically took the words from my mouth." Blake says approvingly. I roll my eyes at him.

"I'm not sure what to do with the girl. She didn't volunteer either, but looked pleased enough when she was called. She might have some skills we could use, and it couldn't hurt to have someone from 4." Cato contributes this and Blake nods thoughtfully.

"She seems likable enough, and comfortable on camera. I think I'll let you two make the call when you see her in training though. If shes useless don't bother inviting them into the alliance, but if you think shes worthy invite them both. At least then that boy won't run from the Cornucopia." Cato and I agree with him before turning our attention back to the reaping where District 5 is just starting.

The escort announces that she is going to pick the girl first (I think Lucia is the only escort that picks male tributes first). "Harlyn Loadstone," The camera zooms in on a red headed girl. Her eyes dart left and right, as if planning her escape, before she focuses on the stage. The only sound is her relatively quiet footsteps as she slinks up the stairs. Something about her doesn't sit well with me.

"We need to watch her. Something about her is off, and I don't think she should be underestimated. The way her eyes are moving, I don't like it. She's intelligent and we should acknowledge that."

"She's just some pathetic little tribute that we'll have to deal with at the bloodbath. Don't worry, Clover, everything's fine." My eyes widen and I grimace as Blake glares suspiciously at us but he seems to let it go. For now anyway. The rest of the tributes go by in a blur until District 11. The male tribute is giant and Cato claims he wants him in the alliance. I tell him okay, but really I think we should leave him alone. Something tells me he isn't going to appreciate the offer. A tiny twelve year old is called, and I smile delightedly when I realize how easy it will be to kill her. A bloodbath tribute for sure.

I only half pay attention as a little blonde girl is called from District 12. Then something that has _never_ happened in 12 happens. A dark haired girl, about my age, steps out of the crowd and volunteers. My mouth drops open in shock. Now the little girl- her sister?- is clinging to her and telling her not to go. I scoff loudly and Cato laughs. A handsome boy that actually looks a bit like the volunteer pulls the little girl that got reaped off of the volunteering girl and whispers in the dark haired girl's ear. I get the same feeling with her that I did with District 5. The escort asks her name and I make sure to remember it. Katniss Everdeen.

"We need to take her out of the way as soon as possible. Look at her, the way she moves, the way she stands and she isn't as pathetic looking as the rest of 12. She has definitely trained in some way. She has that same look of determination in her eyes that you get, Clove."

"Don't compare me to that coal-mining _scum!_" Cato seems taken aback by the fierceness of my words. "Scared of me Cato?" I taunt. He rolls his eyes but looks wary. I'm actually hurt that he really is afraid of me, but I don't let it show. I lean in as close to him as possible, breathing into his ear, "Good." Cato winces, and so do I as soon as he turns back towards the screen. The District 12 boy is nothing special, then the screen goes dark.

"Final thoughts?" Blake asks, even though I know he is just going to tell us what he wants to hear if he thinks we are wrong.

"Both tributes from 1 are in, maybe the girl from 4- the boy has to go- and 11 is also a possibility. We need to watch out for 12 and for some stupid reason Clove thinks 5 has a chance." Cato recaps. Blake nods and a smile of approval spreads across his face.

"Good, good. You two need some sleep, we will arrive in the Capitol just after dawn tomorrow." We bid him goodnight and head to our rooms. Blake has already gone to the bar car so I pull Cato into my room and lock the door behind us.

"You could have blown our cover! Seriously, 'Don't worry, Clover'?"

"Sorry, Clover." Is all he says.

"Stop calling me that!You'll get too comfortable and it will slip out again!"

"Do you remember why I call you Clover?" Of course I did.

_*Flashback*_

We were on our daily six mile run when we stop in little clearing with wildflowers growing in patches all around it. It was miles from all other people and we were safe to be ourselves here. Cato had his arm slung around my shoulders and my arms were wrapped around his waist. I tilt my head up to soak up the warm sun and let a rare smile fill my face.

"What are you doing?" Asks Cato playfully.

"What do you think? I'm relaxing." To prove my point I plop down on the grass right where I am and pull Cato with me. "I haven't done this in so long!"

"What?"

I look over to where he had sat down beside me. "Just been myself. Out here with you I don't have to be Clove the Killer or Clove the Sadist, I can just be Clove, your girlfriend. Not that I'm not those other things, I just have a side that only you see." He smiles warmly at me.

"I love you. I love Clove the Killer, Clove the Sadist and Clove my Girlfriend."

Its the first time he's ever told me he loves me. I don't what to say so I kiss him. Its almost a desperate kiss.

"Be careful in the arena, alright?" I look at him for a moment and think about what he just said. "I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you how I feel _after_ you win." I see a single four leaf clover out of the corner of my eye and pluck it out of the ground. "This is for luck while I can't be around to save your butt all of the time. " I hand it to him and he smiles.

"Don't worry, clover, everything will be fine." I kiss him once more.

"I know."

_*End of Flashback*_

"I thought everything was going to be perfect from then on. I was going be a victor, then you were going to be a victor in the next year or so. We were going to be just another couple of damaged people that were forced to throw away their lives for those stupid Games." Cato says sadly.

"Not all victors are damaged, Cato! The weak ones, sure, but us, we would be on top. Everyone would fear us and no one would get in our way ever again. We wouldn't have had to hide our feelings anymore. You have no idea what that would have meant to me, do you?" I say incredulously. He just looks at me in silence. Waiting for me to go on? I do even if it isn't what he wants.

"I've never felt_ any_ kind of emotion other than fearin a really long time, Cato. When I was a kid, I used to actually feel things. I cared for Jacia, my parents. I thought that maybe one day, my parents might return my feelings, that I wasn't just some object they created for their benefit! I turned everything off when I realized that my purpose was always to win the Games so they would have an easy life. I'm not like you! Your dad decided you would have a chance of winning, that you would be on top. He wanted you to train because he loved you and believed in you. He was right, you never had to work harder than everyone else, you just were better. Me, I was born for the purpose of the Games! My parents never loved me, and they were so disappointed when I turned out small and weak. I had to push myself harder than anyone else in the Training Center, just to make sure my parents wouldn't leave me on the street because I wasn't good enough. I'm not the best by chance, Cato, not like you. It wasn't natural ability that got where I am. My fear of being alone was what drove me to turn everything else off and focus on that one horrible feeling, because it motivated me more than anything else.

"Then you came along about a year after I learned all this. I let you stick around because I was the little girl that everyone tried to make fun of. I could have put them in their place alone, but with you around I didn't have to if I didn't want to. I helped you hurt them anyway of course, just in case you weren't around and I needed them to know I was just as intimidating as you. Besides, hurting people makes me feel good. I get to cause them to feel the fear I've felt my whole life. In a twisted way, I thought it made them a little better than before. But one day when I was nine a little boy, he was about twelve, started messing with me. You weren't there, you had the flu, so I threw a knife. I wasn't thinking, I was so mad. I aimed to kill, just like I'd been taught and it landed in his heart. I'll never forget that look of surprise on his face. I watched him bleed out before getting help. I remember thinking what a pretty color his blood was, and how I should hurt people more often. I killed someone at nine years old, and liked it. When you came back, everyone feared us both so much more. The few people that tried to talk to us before gave up, we got switched to a private trainer because no one would work with us. I never told you what happened, and everyone else was too afraid to speak to you. Its all about fear isn't it? It makes us do great things. Terrible sometimes, but nonetheless very great and impressive. When I finally let you in completely, when I let myself feel things, I was wary. I figured something would go wrong, like all relationships, and it did! I let my guard down, hoping to be able to live a real life with you after the Hunger Games, and then I find out one or both of us will die and there is no stopping it. To be able to let people know about us would have been worth everything I've been through." He continues to look at me blankly and my anger reaches its breaking point. I struggled to keep my voice on a normal level throughout my speech, but now I've lost any regard for anyone else on the train. I don't care if they find out about us.

"Get out!" I shriek.

"Please, Clove, I'm so sorry, I had no idea. Just calm down and-" I pick up an expensive looking glass vase and throw as hard as I can. He ducks and it shatters over his head. I glare at him and he glares right back. I can see his sorrow drain and anger fill its place. I may have messed up big time. "What was that for? You could've taken my head off! Sometimes you can be so irrational!"

"Me? You're the one that was taking out the mentors with a mace! I had to save your worthless life, along with others that really could have used a mace to the head. Thats what got us into this mess in the first place." I hadn't noticed I was moving forward the whole time and now we were so close I could feel his breath on my face. After taking one step back, I slap him. He lets out a noise that sounds like a growl and grabs my wrist, swinging me around so that I'm the one with my back pressed to a wall. I knee him, making enough space between us for me to slam my foot into his chest, he backs off and runs back towards me. I'm about to make a move out of the door, which is just my right, when it slams open. Blake stomps in and grabs Cato by the collar as he goes by. A choking noise sounds from his throat as he is thrust to the grounds. Then Blake turns on me.

"What were you doing? I told you to go to bed, not scream at each other! You two could get into serious trouble for this, and what was Cato doing in your room anyway?" Cato and I have gotten into fights like this many times, so Blake couldn't be too mad. One of my better qualities is that I can think quickly and clearly in all situations.

"We were discussing the alliance when Cato told me I was being irrational because I don't want to invite District 11 in. I threw a vase and he got mad." I tell him quickly. He glances between us suspiciously, obviously not believing it, before focusing his eyes on my own. We stand there for a long time, the only noise being Cato's gasping breaths as he tries to right the damage done to his throat. Eventually that quiets too and we are left staring at one another in silence.

"Go to bed Daria, Dannons come with me. We can't have your neck bruised up when we get there can we?" I give one last withering look to Cato before he closes the door softly behind him, regret obvious in his eyes.

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**Not exactly a cliffhanger or anything, but I hope you liked it! I was really worried all the mushy stuff was getting OOC again, so I tried fixing it with the fight. How did I do? Did I explain Clove's reasoning well enough? Please read and review, and you can PM me if anything needs to be cleared up. :)**

** ~MadiHope24**


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